


Serving the Schnee

by DardalionWrites



Category: RWBY
Genre: Age Difference, Butlers, Cheating, F/M, MILFs, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25186132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DardalionWrites/pseuds/DardalionWrites
Summary: When Adam was branded, the SDC didn't sit idle. Quick to shift the blame and avoid criticism, they fired the one responsible and took the angry young faunus on as a house servant and butler. To Jacques, it was just a way to keep the company name out of the headlines - but to Willow it was a shock seeing the initials of the company her beloved father created branded onto the face of an innocent. Enough for her to take the young man under her wing, and perhaps much, much more.
Relationships: Willow Schnee/Adam Taurus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 122
Collections: Rwby Lemons





	Serving the Schnee

**Author's Note:**

> Ultrasound7

* * *

“Your husband calls for your presence.”

It was a common occurrence for Willow to be summoned by Jacques as though she were some servant of his; the missive had come not from her husband but his secretary. Heavens forbid Jacques have the time to speak in person to the woman he’d sworn to love, cherish and hold above all others. Gone were the years she asked herself why and how this had happened.

Now, she simply adapted, placed her pen down, rose and made her way to the door, checking her appearance in the mirror. Her ruffled blouse and cravat were a little out of place, her lavender waistcoat wrinkled, but Jacques only cared for her to maintain her appearance on one of his public jaunts. Willow had long since given up on her appearance. She gave her hair a cursory push with both hands, smiled faintly at her reflection and remembered times when those smiles had been more common. There hadn’t been many since father died.

“Ahem.” Jacques’ wiry secretary coughed from the doorway, her viperish face set behind reflective spectacles and an ever-present sneer. “Your husband is waiting.”

 _Then my husband can wait a little longer,_ she felt like saying. She didn’t, of course. Jacques was not known for his patience. Letting her hair fall, she nodded and walked to the door, allowing the secretary to lead her through her own home. It didn’t feel like that anymore. The pictures of mother and father had been removed and replaced with new family portraits, the most famous of which featured her two daughters looking so unhappy. Willow still didn’t know why Jacques allowed that, or why he had such a miserable painting set in their main hall. Perhaps it was to show how little he cared.

Coming out at the top of the staircase, she spied her husband on the ground floor, flanked by two Schnee bodyguards, one of which held onto the shoulders of a young boy whose head was tilted down. Willow frowned, placed a hand on the railing and slowly made her way down the long, gilded staircase.

“Willow.” Jacques greeted her by name. From his tone alone, she knew he was upset about something.

“Jacques,” she returned. “You called for me.”

“I did.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re sober, too. Will wonders never cease? There’s been an issue at one of the mines,” he said, continuing before she could think to reply to the insult. He gestured to the boy, who up close appeared even more ratty than he had from afar. Wild reddish hair flicked with black was all she could see, though the two horns that twisted through them marked him a faunus. “One of the foreman I put in charge got _ideas_ on how to control his stock. Our reputation is bad enough without this. I’ve had the man dealt with, but this is a public relations disaster waiting to happen.”

Willow frowned. “What is?”

“Are you blind!?” he barked. Turning, he saw the boy had his face down. “Look up, child!” he said roughly. “Show your face. Don’t hide away when I’m speaking to you.”

The boy looked up. His eyes were a piercing blue and full of rage, hatred, and pain. Those weren’t what really caught her eye, however. Willow gasped, fingers flying to her lips but there was no stopping the agonised sound that slipped forth.

“Yes.” Jacques nodded along, though without a shred of sympathy. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? We have hard enough times with the faunus as it is without some moron _branding_ them like cattle. There’s no stopping this getting out so we’ve taken other measures. The one responsible has been arrested and we’ll be throwing him to the wolves – even pushing for a prosecution ourselves. Our best teams are working to turn this to our advantage and show the world the SDC won’t stand for such wanton cruelty.”

Willow barely listened. The letters SDC branded into the boy’s skin were bold and ugly, tinged red around the edges and black in the middle where the metal had scalded his skin. What had the world come to that her gentle father’s initials would be branded into the face of a boy Winter’s age at most? Her father would be rolling in his grave if he could see this.

“One thing they’re clear on is that we can’t cast this one out, however. The SDC has wronged him and whether or not it was the decision of a rogue foreman, it is our responsibility to see this dealt with.”

“I… I agree. We must.”

“You do?” Jacques hummed. “Convenient. I’ve spoken to my lawyers and we’ve drafted up a contract. He will stay and work here, train and work as one of the staff. His lodge will be paid for, and he’ll have the opportunity to attend a local university under scholarship paid by the SDC if he wishes. From there, he can make his own choices, but it ought to be clear to the world that the SDC stands beside those we have wronged.” Under his breath he added, “It should be enough to keep those vultures in the media off us at any rate.”

It didn’t surprise her in the slightest that Jacques would be so cold as to only care about that, or to say it in front of the child in question. As a businessman he was unparalleled, and that was why she’d agreed to marry him. As a person, he was lacking. _Knowing Jacques, he expects the boy to squander this chance and then he can kick him out. If the SDC is seen to try, then it doesn’t matter whether this succeeds or not._

Many thought Jacques Schnee a racist, but they didn’t realise the truth. Human and faunus were no different to him – all were resources to be used and thrown away. He didn’t mistreat the faunus because they were faunus. He simply took advantage of the prejudice that already existed to turn a profit. Had it been the other way around and humans were the ones treated so poorly, she didn’t doubt for a second he would have human children in the mines.

“What is his name?” Willow asked.

“Andrew.”

“Adam.” The boy’s voice was low and hoarse, but also angry. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “My name is Adam.”

“Adam, then.” Jacques rolled his eyes as though to say it really didn’t matter. It might not to him, but Willow could understand why someone branded might cling to their name.

Stepping forward, she surprised both Jacques and the bodyguard holding onto the boy, taking the young man’s shoulder, and drawing him away and to her. The boy stiffened but didn’t dare make a move. Willow didn’t either. Holding a child in distress was not something she was used to, and that was a sorrowful thought for a woman with three children. Instead, she stood him before her, his back to her.

“Very well, husband. Then I shall take Adam as my personal butler. Francis _has_ spoken of retiring at the end of the year to spend more time with his grandchildren. I will have young Adam apprentice under him and take his spot.” Before Jacques could think of a reason not to, she said, “And holding such an esteemed position, especially close to a member of our family, will only go to show everyone how seriously we’ve taken this matter.”

Jacques arguments died within seconds. “Yes. A neat solution. There won’t be any who can claim we didn’t give him a chance when my own wife takes him under her arm.” His eyes were already distant, the matter – and her – dismissed. Jacques Schnee saw only the bottom line in any transaction, and that was all their marriage had ever been. It was all this faunus was as well. “Very well; I’ll leave it to you to handle. Make sure he knows his place – I don’t want to hear of him causing problems. This is a charitable decision. There are limits to what I’ll allow.”

“There won’t be any problems.” Willow’s fingers tightened on the boy’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure of that.”

* * *

“Is this the one from the news?” a well-dressed man asked. “The one with the scar?”

Adam froze, trapped somewhere between scorn at someone having to _ask_ that when his face still bore the initials SDC, and panic at having so much attention focused on him. A mask of calm slipped over his face, eyes dulling and the paranoia stored safely away as three sets of eyes turned on him.

“It is,” Jacques Schnee, the master of the household, replied. He held a glass of white wine in hand and his expression was one Adam had come to learn in his two months’ of working in the Schnee manor. Polite civility concealing ruthless pragmatism.

“Terrible thing to hear of,” a woman among the group remarked without much in the way of sympathy. “Simply terrible. Though it must be said, you held your own there, Jacques. I wouldn’t have thought you to take him on.”

“The boy deserved a chance,” Jacques said magnanimously. “The SDC is all about rewarding those who earn it. He is… a capable servant.” His eyes hardened. “When he remembers to be.”

That was his cue and Adam stepped forward, laying one hand over his stomach as he’d been taught and bending forty-five degrees and no more. His other hand proffered a tray of delicate treats. “Ma’ams. Sirs.” he said, eyes down.

The Schnee charity ball was in full swing. An annual event of sorts, Adam had been told in no uncertain terms that it was also doubling as his first appearance as a butler of the Schnee family. Guests would be looking for gossip and if he provided any, it was made clear he would be out the door within the day, left to fend for himself. Jacques Schnee had not said it himself, but then why would he deign to speak with a faunus? No, he had the message delivered via his waspish secretary; a woman Adam had come to hate more than the lord of the Schnee himself.

His status within the SDC manor had always been tenuous. Jacques had wasted no time trying to find something to dismiss him on. He was given the hardest jobs and the worst tasks; the fact Adam completed them all without incident only frustrated Jacques more. It was clear the man wanted him _out_ his sight. And to be fair, Adam couldn’t blame him. Holding someone who hated the Schnee name so close was a threat – and he’d been thinking of joining the White Fang for a while now. Every interaction with the cruel Jacques, his frosty secretary or his judgmental children set Adam’s teeth grinding. There were few reasons he stayed at all.

One of them staggered drunkenly into him, spilling red wine down Adam’s pristine white shirt and over his grey waistcoat. It was reflexes alone that saved the food, and he stumbled back, catching a tipsy Willow Schnee with one hand and moving the tray away with the other.

“The faunus does well,” Jacques snapped. “Now if only the same could be said of my own wife! Drunk again, Willow? It’s been less than two hours.” The man’s eyes closed, a grimace passing over his face as his wealthy guests tittered like children.

Adjusting his grip, Adam offered the tray of food to a passing server coming over to help and took hold of Willow with both hands. The woman was taller than him but lighter – but like most drunks, she’d suddenly become twice as heavy as her weight suggested, all boneless and limp. He hefted her so that she was leaning on one shoulder with his hand around her waist. As her personal butler, he was used to dealing with her little episodes. Mrs Willow liked her drink.

“With your permission, sir, I’ll see Mrs Schnee to her room?”

“Yes, remove her.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Take my drunk of a wife back to her quarters – her private quarters. I won’t share a bed with someone _stinking_ of wine.”

Bowing as best he could, Adam steered Willow away from the festivities and toward the quieter corridors. It just so happened to coincide with the young Weiss Schnee stepping up to perform; a convenient distraction to save face. Two other servants he couldn’t remember the names of – there were over a hundred in the Schnee manor – opened a door and ushered him through, closing it behind and shutting Willow off from the partygoers before she could make any more a fool of herself.

“Hello Adam,” she slurred, giggling lightly.

“Hello Mrs Schnee.”

“Ahhh.” Her hot breath wafted over his neck. “I told you to call me Willow.”

“So you have,” he said with an amused smile. “Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to address you with anything other than respect.”

“Pah. I don’t care about that!” Willow waved a hand and almost dragged them both down to the floor. He had to catch himself on the closest wall. “Oops.” Another drunken giggle. “I’m a little tipsy.”

“A little? You must have drunk at least two bottles.”

“Less, actually. Only two glasses.” Her voice was suddenly much steadier, even amused. Brushing his hand away from her shoulder, she rose and stood still, looking back the way they’d come before offering him a small, secretive smile. “I did make sure to spill some down myself though. Helps sell the image.”

Adam stared at her. “You’re faking it…?”

“I’m the wife to Jacques Schnee,” she said snidely. “I’m used to faking things.” The dirty joke surprised him enough to earn a quick laugh. Willow smiled. “Ah, and finally I see a little humour there. You had a face like thunder back in the hall. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Welcome, Mrs Schnee? For what?”

“I’ve told you to call me Willow.” Sighing, she pressed her fingers into her forehead. “And welcome for saving you from that delightful hazing my twisted husband has made this event. Unless you enjoyed being paraded around like a charity case?”

Adam frowned. “I did not.”

He didn’t understand Willow. The woman should have been as despised by him as Jacques was – she was a Schnee and she did nothing for the faunus. Hers was a face not as well-known among his kind; Jacques was hated and his children were famous in their own ways, but Willow Schnee was just a smiling face on his arm. A non-factor. He hadn’t even remembered the man having a wife until he’d been introduced to her. He’d expected her to be as scornful, if not completely dismissive of him.

“There you have it,” she said. “I didn’t much enjoy the night either. Seeing Weiss dragged out on a stage to perform when she’s clearly so unhappy about it only makes it worse. Poor girl wrote all her lyrics about how lonely and trapped she is, and her father doesn’t even care.” Sighing, she added, “Of course, I’m no better, feigning drunk to escape and leaving her behind. Little wonder she barely ever talks to me.”

Adam remained silent. Not least because she was right – it _was_ bad parenting, and Weiss _was_ within her right to feel upset about it. He’d never known his family; he’d been born in an SDC mine and grown up there, but he knew enough about what was expected.

“You could say something to him.”

“What could I say that I haven’t a hundred times over? I’ve told him Weiss’ heart isn’t in it. The man simply does not care.”

He couldn’t say it surprised him, but he wasn’t reckless enough to say it. “Hmm. If you say so, Mrs Schnee.”

“Come now. There’s no need for such careful answers when it’s just the two of us.”

“I should get you back to your quarters.”

“So quickly?” she asked with an almost cheeky little smile. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Adam? Jacques is busy – he will be for hours.” Before he could even think to grab her, Willow swept into an adjoining room. “Why don’t we have a little fun?”

Chasing her into the room, Adam found himself in one of Jacques’ offices. The man had an almost inordinate number of them in the manor, highlighting his priorities in life. It was neat, orderly, and utterly lacking in personality, tiled white flooring with a desk in the centre of the room, one seat behind, two in front and a dusty wine cabinet at the back that Willow was already perusing. The walls were dotted with framed pictures; most of which featured Jacques and the SDC in various news stories, but none of which included members of his so-called family.

It really wasn’t a surprise. Everyone who worked in the manor knew the Schnee family situation was a mess at best and downright unhealthy otherwise. Jacques cared little for his wife and children, and the feeling was very much mutual. Winter threw herself into the army, Weiss into her training, and Willow into drink.

“Share a glass with me,” she chimed, pulling out a dusty bottle and wiping the label clean. “Jacques stores them here as ornaments and never touches them. What’s the point of that?”

“Ma’am,” Adam tried, “I’m supposed to take you to your room.”

“This _is_ my room. The manor belongs to me. All these rooms are mine.” Uncorking the bottle, she took a large swig from it. Red wine spilled down her chin and onto her dress. “It should be!” she said, pointing the bottle at him. “It was meant to be…”

“Mrs Schnee…”

“Yes. That’s what I am. Mrs Schnee. Not Willow Schnee, but Jacques’ wife. His trophy wife.” Sighing, the woman made her way over to the desk and pushed the comfortable leather seat out. She considered it for a second before shrugging and pushing up to sit on the desk instead. Her hand tipped the bottle back so she could drink from it.

Adam wasn’t unused to her little moments like this. If anything, he felt she deserved them for putting up with the cold-hearted bastard that was Jacques Schnee. He didn’t envy her it for all the money in the world.

“My lady,” he tried. “I think you should retire to your room. Your husband will be upset if he hears of you in his office.”

“When is he not upset at me? That man has hated me since the day we wedded, even though it was he who sought me out. The only reason I agreed at all was because my father was ill, the company failing, and our twenty thousand employees were at risk of losing their livelihoods. I thought I was making a sacrifice for their sake. Look at us now.” She gestured to the room at large, but he knew she meant the company. “The SDC is a shell of its former self. We have money and power, but our name – my family’s name – is worth less than mud.”

“That’s not _your_ fault,” he pointed out.

“No. It’s his. I really do hate him.”

Sighing, Adam said, “So do I.”

It was a risk for sure, but Willow’s answering smile said she wouldn’t be the one to throw him to the wolves. Pleased with the answer, she took another quick drink and idly let her eyes roam over the desk. From what he could see, there were financial records and the latest work Jacques was focusing on, all neatly arranged.

Willow looked up to him again with an impish grin. He had no idea what it meant, but she apparently assumed he did, holding a finger to her lips for silence. Before he could stop her, she said “oops” and upended a healthy splash of red wine over the paperwork.

“Willow!” he barked, alarmed.

“Oh dear. Clumsy me.” With absolutely zero contrition, she dabbed at the work, smearing the wine about until it was truly ruined. “He’ll have to do this all again now. Hours of work down the drain – and you just know how much he hates wasted time.”

“Willow…”

“Do you want to try?” she asked, offering him the bottle. “Splash it around. He’ll assume it’s me and what can he do? Hit me? Not if he doesn’t want his reputation ruined when I parade the bruise in public.”

“He doesn’t have to strike you to hurt you,” Adam warned, stepping up to take the bottle off her. As much as he liked the idea of ruining Jacques’ day, this was liable to get her shouted at. He reached for the bottle, but she leaned back and pulled it away, leaving him to grasp at air.

“Oops,” she teased, leaking some more out over the woodwork.

“Willow!”

“Oh my, I’m so clumsy today.” Giggling, she tossed it from one hand to the other as he made a grab for it. She took a swig before he could stop her, spilling a little more wine down her neck before holding it out and draining the rest of the bottle out onto the expensive rug Jacques kept under his desk.

Adam watched in shock. Jacques would be livid. Not at him, but certainly at Willow for this. If there was one thing he hated, it was having to watch while the man abused his wife. It was hard to see him do that to anyone, but to someone he was supposed to love was far worse. Stepping up, Adam wrestled with the grown woman for the bottle, trapping her against the table by standing between her legs, and peeling her fingers away one at a time. Finally securing it – not that it mattered anymore since it was empty – he stabbed the bottle down on the corner of the desk and grabbed Willow’s shoulders to keep her still.

Willow gasped and placed a hand on his chest to steady herself. Her legs rubbed up against his, her skirt having ridden high when she pushed herself up onto the desk. They both paused, acutely aware of just how close they were. Her puffy white dress was clinging to her skin thanks to the sticky wine. From his position he could see all the way down her cleavage. Her large white breasts were rising and falling with every breath.

It was all too improper a position for someone of his position to be in, especially with the woman that was essentially his boss’ wife.

“I – I’m sorry,” he said, making to move away.

Two fingers wound into his shirt, sliding under his top button and curling up inside against his chest. They tugged gently, keeping him where he was. Willow’s eyes burned up into his, her upper teeth teasing her bottom lip for a short second before letting it go.

“Adam,” she whispered, voice husky and breathless. “How do you feel about helping me really get back at Jacques?”

The ruined paperwork covered with wine already showed that, but with their eyes locked together and Willow’s thick legs closing in on his thighs, he had a suspicion he knew what she meant. Only a suspicion and it already had his heart hammering in his chest. If he were wrong, it would mean the end of the rapport they’d built. He didn’t dare act on it.

“Do you want to get your own back on him?” she asked, working her thumb and finger together. His top button popped open. His tight uniform shirt slid open, exposing some hard flesh. Willow’s hand dipped in and against it, her hot palm pressing into him as her fingers splayed out. “I do.” Dragging her hand down, she popped another button. “And I can think of a way we can both do that…”

“W – Willow…”

“Call me Mrs Schnee.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you wanted me to call you Willow?”

“I do normally.” Her lips curled up and she slipped her ass off the desk, sliding her weight into him and grinding her crotch into his. “But I want you to call me Mrs Schnee when you’re _fucking_ me.”

God! Adam groaned as his bulging erection was pushed right up against her crotch. The thin dress she wore didn’t do much to subtract from the burning heat, nor did his black pants. Just as he could feel her, she could feel his hardness.

“M – Mrs Schnee,” he rasped.

“That’s it.” Her hands were working all over him, under his shirt, down over his stomach. Her fingernails teased his waistband and dipped under as he sucked in a breath. They found the curly hair of his pubes and she made an appreciative sound. “I want you to call me Mrs Schnee. Jacques’ wife. His wife, who you’re going to fuck senseless on his desk. Won’t that be poetic? Working at this desk tomorrow, never realising his wife is fucking her butler behind his back.”

Adam’s body moved without thought. His dick was already straining against her and Willow’s legs wrapping around his didn’t help. Pushing into her, he forced her back onto the desk, leaning down over her body with his hands on the ruined financial statements. He had her pinned, and rather than push him off, she brought her arms up over her head submissively, bit her lip and arched her back. His eyes tracked the swell of her large breasts as they pushed up mere inches beneath his nose.

This would be the perfect revenge, wouldn’t it? Fuck Jacques’ wife behind his back. He’d never know, but for a _faunus_ to be the one cucking him would be so sweet. Almost as sweet as the woman splayed out under him.

“Well?” she teased. “Do I need to guide a young man through his first time?”

Adam ground his hips into hers, his cock into her pussy, and Willow moaned eagerly. One of his hands slid up her bare arms to take both her wrists and pin them to the desk. His other touched her stomach and dragged higher, cupping a large breast. “It’s the butler’s job to serve, Mrs Schnee,” he said, getting into the role. “If your husband hasn’t been serving you well enough, I’ll step in.”

“Yes!” Her eyes burned with passion, bright blue through a mesh of thick lashes. “Yes, my useless husband has been such a bore. He doesn’t know how to show a woman a good time.”

“Is that so?” Teasingly, he trailed his hand down her bare arms to her neck and then below, circling around her breastbone just above her cleavage. He could feel her heartbeat – it was as frantic as his and that was saying something. It was a challenge to keep his voice even. “And how would my lady like her fucking tonight?”

Willow gasped excitedly. “Hard and rough. There isn’t a passionate bone in my husband’s body. It’s all limp thrusting, finish and leave. I want to know what it feels like to be fucked so hard I can’t think.”

“As my lady demands.”

He was too eager to mess around and he had a feeling Willow was too. Pushing her legs up into the air, he pushed her white dress up to her waist and tucked it under her ass. And what an ass it was. So wide and glistening, with skin so pale it might as well have been snow. She’d worn a garter and white lingerie under, and the base of her knickers were so wet he could see pink through them. Rather than pull those down, he slid them aside, marvelling at her dripping pussy. Her thighs were sticky from her arousal – an arousal he’d caused.

Resting her long legs up over his shoulders, Adam worked with the button of his pants and pushed them and his boxers down. His cock sprang upward, eight inches of thick flesh that felt harder than it had ever been before.

“Oh God,” Willow said, having propped herself up on her elbows to watch. “It’s so big.”

Adam couldn’t help but ask, “Bigger than Jacques?”

“That limp-dicked old man? If he can even get it up, it’s five inches at best. Oh God, Adam, I’ve never had something so intimidating inside me.” Meeting his eyes, she slowly licked her lips. “I can hardly wait.”

Grunting, he took his length in hand and angled it toward her. “You won’t have to.”

Adam had always imagined his first time would be slower, sweeter – and with a woman more his age. Willow was none of those things, and yet Jacques would have needed a crowbar to pry him away. With the risk of someone discovering them already driving their lust to new heights – as well as adding a time limit – Adam took Willow’s ankles, pulled them up over his shoulders to tug her rear end to the edge of the desk, and drove his cock deep into her sopping cunt.

He cried out at how hot, wet and tight her pussy was. The raw shock of it forced him to keep his dick still inside her for a few seconds just to process it. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Hot, soft and crushing at the same time. The sweetest torture. Desperately, he looked down into Willow’s eyes, expecting her to ask what was taking so long.

Her startled blue eyes met his, wide and shocked with her mouth forming a lovely little `o`. He saw them roll up and close as her entire body shuddered, her pouty bottom lip sucked into her mouth as she bit down on a ragged moan. “Oh, fuck!” she cried. “Oh God, Adam, it’s so deep! Please,” she begged, “Show me what sex with a real man is like.”

Adam began tearing into her – just flat out fucking her. There was no rhythm or pace to it; he slammed his hips into her as hard as he could, fighting waves of pleasure as he thrust deep into her wet sex. She wanted him to take her like a man, to fuck her raw, and that was what he was going to do! Trusting his shoulders to keep her legs in place, he slid his hands down to the flesh of her hips and clung on tight, dragging her back and onto him with a fierce pull that had her sliding down the desk, ass dropping off entirely to be suspended in the air between his cock and the wood.

“Oh God!” she wept. “Oh God, oh! I’ve never felt like this! It’s never felt so fucking good!”

Jacques Schnee would never allow his demure and perfect trophy wife to swear and cry like that. Adam loved that he could drag it out. Grinning like a mad man, he hunched his knees and drove up into her, thrusting just that little deeper. Willow’s eyes grew so wide they threatened to pop out.

“Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she squealed. “How much have I missed being with that man?”

“Too much,” he grunted, driving into her. He plunged as deep as he could and then drew out all the way to the tip, staring down at his cock glistening with her juices. Willow whined hopelessly when she thought he might pull out, only to squeal in excitement when he’d lunge forward again. She kept trying to speak but he took a perverse pleasure in timing his thrusts to blow the air out her lungs. Seeing the normally prim and proper woman reduced to a mewling puddle of flesh was too good not to. The fact it was Jacques’ wife, the man he hated most in the world, only made it better.

That _she_ hated him just as much was the icing on the cake.

He leaned down over her, dug his hands into her cleavage and pulled her white blouse down. Full breasts spilled out without even a bra to support them. They were heavy and swollen from three children, but her puffy nipples were so hard and pink that he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

As gently as he could, he squeezed one, judging her moans and how she arched her back as sign of how hard he should be. To his surprise, she liked it harder than he’d have expected. He pinched them in what must have been a painful way, and Willow’s tight walls convulsed around his dick.

“Tell me how I am compared to him.” Adam demanded. “How am I next to your worthless husband?”

“Ah.” Willow cried out wetly, wrapping her legs around his hips as he leaned over her. The woman’s ankles locked over his behind, one high heel strapped in place and the other dangling from her toes. “You’re so big!” she wept. “So big and hard and deep.”

He thrust just that little harder to prove it, slamming into her. Willow arched up with a feverish cry, walls tightening and gripping him as her stomach hitched. Hungrily, Adam locked his lips around one of her tits, biting and suckling on her sweaty nipple.

“Oh! Oh God, yes. Hm. Y – You’re-” A moan cut her off. “Ah. You’re so _wild_ as well,” she cried. “So passionate and hot and ahhh!” Her hips rolled up into him, Willow trying her best to lunge back onto him and meet every thrust. “Jacques can never fuck me like this. I’ve never came with him. Never! A – And with you, I already feel like I’m – ah, oh God, Adam, I think I’m going to cum!”

The first climax since her marriage. Maybe even of her life. It had to be his! Pushing down onto her, Adam thrust as deep as he could and sealed his lips over hers. Her eyes grew wide and then slowly closed, hands wrapping around his neck as their bodies ground together. He didn’t know much about kissing, but he couldn’t imagine Jacques did either.

It didn’t matter. Willow’s pussy clamped down on him and her entire body was wracked by shudders as she came. Their tongues lashed and fought against one another, lips moulding and grinding together.

_Your wife is cumming on my cock, Jacques. What a failure of a man you are._

“Oh Adam,” she moaned, hands roaming up and down his muscular back. Her pale eyes were hazy, her face flushed. Willow giggled and wrapped her body tight around him, humming contentedly. “That was – ah – amazing. I’ve never felt so complete before.”

That was good for her, but he was on the edge and still thrusting in and out of her. “I’m – uh – going to cum.”

“No. Wait.” Willow placed a hand on his stomach and pushed him back. He almost slapped it away to finish inside her, but she worked a foot against his leg and he reluctantly stepped back, drawing out. His erect eight inches felt hard and painful. Sliding her rear to the edge of the desk, Willow stood and pushed her breasts against his chest. Smiling, she pushed him back until his legs touched Jacques Schnee’s comfortable office chair.

Adam’s eyes widened. Having an idea what she wanted, he sat down, legs spread. This was the spot Jacques would sit at himself tomorrow, and now a naked faunus was lounging in the expensive leather, covered in sweat and the smell of sex.

Willow reached down and took the dress pooled around her waist, stretching herself tall as she pulled it over her head. Her full and luscious body was revealed in all its glory, heavy breasts swinging, and wide hips flushed with exertion. Only her silken garter remained, and Adam took hold of that as she stepped forward, working one foot through the armrest before settling her weight on his legs.

It took a little manoeuvring for her to mount him properly, but it was worth it. Willow’s feet were on the other side of the seat, her large and soft bottom pressing on his thighs as she settled her weight fully onto him. The chair creaked but held, and soon Adam’s face was pushed back into the comfortable cushions, a far more enticing pair squashing flat against his chest. Keeping his hands on her hips, he guided her dripping snatch to his cock once more, hissing out sharply as she sank down and swallowed him whole.

“This is his chair,” Willow gasped, pushing as much of her body against his as she could. “He’ll be working here all day tomorrow. Do you think he’ll know? Do you think he’ll smell us and wonder?”

He had no idea. The thought excited him. Sliding his hands to her ass, he gripped her flesh tight, dragging her down onto him and thrusting up at the same time. “Let’s make sure,” he whispered ferally. “And if he doesn’t, maybe he’ll realise when I fuck a faunus into that belly of yours.”

“Oh God, yes!” Willow cried out and slapped her hips down. “Fuck me pregnant, Adam. I want to see the look on his face when our fourth child is a faunus. A faunus Schnee! Can you even imagine?”

“He’ll divorce you,” Adam grunted, bouncing the gorgeous woman in his lap.

“Can he?” Her hands sought his cheek, nose pressing against his as she gasped into his mouth. “I’m the Schnee; he’s just the one that married me. Let him divorce me and go back to being a nobody if he has the balls for it. We both know he doesn’t. No, he’ll have to accept it. Have to watch and let our baby grow, all the while pretending he doesn’t know I’m fucking you behind his back. The whole world will know he’s a worthless little bitch, but _he’ll_ have to pretend he hasn’t realised.”

Adam all but groaned at the image. He slapped a hand onto her ass, making it jiggle. In answer, she locked her hands onto the head of the chair and rolled her hips in his lap, watching him with clear lust. He gave her another slap, spanking her as she bounced up and down on him. Willow moaned at the mix of pain and pleasure. Jacques had ever only been one – and he rarely deigned to waste energy on physical contact even when he was angry. To have someone willing, even eager, to touch her must have been incredible.

“Is that your permission for me to cum inside you?”

Willow’s eyes lit up as she crashed down onto him, grinding his cock into her pussy. “Yes. Inside. Knock me up.”

“Is that a command, Mrs Schnee? Is that your order to this lowly faunus butler?”

“It is my order!” she said, trying for imperious and failing. It was hard to sound it when you were breathless and needy, mewling like a girl twenty years younger being fucked by a hot stud. “Finish in me, butler. Fill my womb with your thick, faunus cum!”

Adam gritted his teeth and thrust upward. “As my lady – hngh – commands.”

His cock expanded and bulged, pumping his thick cum down its length before expelling it in a deluge, shooting rope after rope into Willow’s tight cunt. He slammed his hips harder against her, even though there was no more room. Her feet locked around the back of Jacques’ fancy chair, her breasts squashing into his face as she cried out in bliss. Adam felt another burst come out from his balls, down his length and out into her body.

“Ugh. Agh. Fuck…”

“It’s so hot!” Willow wept, collapsing over and on him. He had to hold onto her round ass to stop her slipping off. “Oh Adam, I can feel it all inside me. There’s so much and it feels – ah – it feels so wonderful.” Pulling back weakly, she sat in his lap, looking down their sweaty bodies to the point where his dick was slid inside her. Giving an experimental squeeze, she moaned into his mouth, kissing his lips hungrily.

Adam was exhausted and sweaty, his own cheeks sticking to Jacques’ chair. The desk was a mess of wine and ruined paperwork, while the empty bottle had fallen to the floor and shattered somewhere during their wild lovemaking. Even so, he tilted his head up to hers, lips meeting and hands gripping her tight, pulling the older woman’s warm body flush against his.

“T – Take me back to my room?” she asked, pulling away a little.

“And what,” he panted, “Will we do once we’re there…?”

Willow’s forehead came to rest against his, nose to nose, eye to eye.

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

* * *

Jacques watched his youngest daughter perform her final concert. It was frustrating that in the last two years he’d been unable to change her mind about going to that stupid huntress school. Wasting her time away like a commoner when she could have been so much more. In the end, she’d been resolute, and he knew when to cut his losses. At least he’d wrung one last concert out of her.

“Oops.” Willow fumbled her glass of wine and spilled it on her skirt. Jacques’ fury mounted, but her pet faunus was there a moment later with a napkin to dab at her leg, taking the glass away with a polite smile.

“Allow me, my lady.”

“Oh dear,” his wife tittered. “I _am_ clumsy today.”

Drunk, more like. Two years it had been now since they took that faunus in their home, and while he’d been pleasantly surprised to find the boy prove himself worthy of the position, the same still couldn’t be said of his drunkard wife.

“If you’re only going to make a fool of yourself, you should leave,” he said.

“Perhaps I shall, husband. Adam, be a dear and help me back to the hotel. I’ve had a little much to drink. Won’t you hold onto me, so I won’t fall?”

“Of course, my lady.” The faunus took her hand and then her waist, supporting her weight. He gestured with one hand to the door. “I’m sure Mr Schnee will have no problem with you retiring early.”

“Do you, Jacques?” she asked. “I’m sure Adam and I can _entertain ourselves_ until you return.”

Jacques ignored it as he always did, waving his hand dismissively and paying more attention to the wealthy investors he’d brought to the VIP lounge with him. They didn’t seem surprised by his wife’s prompt exit. It was no secret to anyone that his and Willow’s marriage was a loveless one.

What did concern him was the sly smirks and smug expressions they were sharing – as though they were laughing at a joke he wasn’t privy to. Whenever he looked, however, they would hide their smiles behind their hands. It was especially prevalent whenever his wife made her excuses to abandon their little social gatherings. It was worse in the mansion. Though no one dared act it to his face, the maids and butlers all shared smiles behind his back.

_I must be imagining it. I am Jacques Schnee – the wealthiest and most powerful man on Remnant. No one would dare laugh at me._

The amused smiles on the investors’ faces suggested otherwise.


End file.
